


Save Yourself, I'll Hold Them Back

by Killjoy_Linnea



Category: Alex Rider - Anthony Horowitz
Genre: Depression, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Post-Scorpia Rising, Reunion, Romance, and hopefully you'll laugh a bit too, i know i said you'll laugh but you might cry too, i'm not really good at this tag thing so please forgive me, there will be cute moments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-02
Updated: 2014-11-28
Packaged: 2018-02-07 04:55:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1885851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Killjoy_Linnea/pseuds/Killjoy_Linnea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alex Rider has everything he wished for. MI6 has left him alone, he gets to go to school and he lives with Sabina Pleasure and her family. He finally has a normal life, but he has also realized it's a little late for that now. Jack is dead, Alex is traumatized and has no one to talk to about it. Constantly surrounded by people, Alex feels like he's suffocating. All he really needs is space enough to save himself and someone who understands. The question is: Is there anyone out there who actually understands?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first ever AR fanfic so don't kill me, ok? I don't really have much to say, just, i hope you enjoy it and if you do, please let me know. :D
> 
> The name of this story is also a song by My Chemical Romance.

It was a warm autumn night. The sun had since long set, darkness had invaded and now the only thing spreading light was the windows of neighbor houses together with streetlamps. A chilly breeze which swept by now and then was the only thing that kept Alex Rider anchored in reality as he was leaning on the balcony railing of the house he was living in. He let out a deep sigh, realizing he should re-join the Pleasure family at the dinner table. They would probably start worrying soon, with all right, but he still couldn’t make himself step back into the house. Just the thought made him uncomfortable. Around the dinner table he’d be forced to keep up the charade of being settling in with the family, when in fact he hated it. Not the family itself, but their life. Alex knew he had gotten all he had wished for. He went to school, MI6 had left him alone and he had a family, a nice family, to live with. Sabina and her parents did their best to put the broken boy back together, but he knew it was a mission bound to fail. They couldn’t help him – he couldn’t even help himself. He wondered why on earth he had thought this was going to work, and what he was supposed to do now when it didn’t. He couldn’t go back to MI6, he couldn’t stay with Sabina, but at the same time she and her family was all he had left. A pang of sadness hit in his chest and for a moment it was difficult to breathe. He closed his eyes but quickly opened them again since the horrible scenes replaying on the inside of his eyelids were even worse than what was surrounding him. He tried to push the thought of Jack away.

 

With the perfect timing for being a distraction someone or something moved gracefully in the shadows of the trees lining the opposite pavement. Alex tensed and focused, catching glimpses of a moving silhouette. It was a someone, Alex decided, and someone was a tall, well-built man. The pattern of movements made him think of… No. Alex felt a sudden urge to slam his own head against the railing. Could he maybe be able to stop thinking about dead people for at least two minutes?! As he thought that to himself, it happened. The silhouette stepped out into the light of a streetlamp. Alex froze for a second and could hear his own pulse rising.  When the familiar man’s blue eyes met his own, he snapped back to reality and stormed back into the house without thinking. The picture of what he had just seen lingered as he darted down the stairs. He almost ran into Sabina when he passed the kitchen.

“Alex, where are you going?” she asked, looking at him with clear concern.

“Out,” Alex answered distantly, not even sparing her a glance. “Don’t follow me.”

With those words he ran to the hall, pushed the front door open and jumped out, slamming it shut again. On the porch he stopped for a moment, looking to see if the man was still there and if he was alone. He stood in the exact same place as Alex had seen him, and that was enough for Alex to start moving again. He didn’t stop to reflect, although he knew he should.  This was probably the most deadly man in the world. Alex ignored this fact and with anger boiling in his chest came to halt a few meters away from the man. Slowly he raised an accusing finger at him and hissed out;

“You are dead.”

“Am I?” the man answered. There was a familiar trace of a Russian accent.

Apparently not, Alex thought to himself. Looking at his own raised hand, he saw he had started trembling. Looking up at the Russian in front of him, he realized he had also noticed. Something very alike concern wavered in the assassin’s eyes and Alex was a bit shocked. A lot of feelings were boiling inside of him now, and he was surprised at a few of them; relief, sadness, was there even a little spark of safety? The anger was stronger though. He took a few steps closer, almost eliminating all distance between them.

“Are you here to kill me?” he wondered in an accusing tone. “Cause if you are, please get on with it.”

Before Yassen had a chance to answer, something inside of Alex snapped and he started screaming at the older man. He had bottled up his feelings for far too long and a breakdown seemed to be well on its way.

“Kill me!” Alex screamed furiously, but also a bit defeated. “I can’t do this. I can’t stay here.”

Yassen’s always so indifferent expression fell. Alex didn’t care and moved on to trying to provoke him. Pushing him, screaming at him, nothing worked. The Russian just stood there, staring at Alex in surprise and with worry. Alex threw a punch, which Yassen instinctively blocked and in the process he seemed to snap back to reality.

“Alex…” he said warningly, trying to stop Alex from hitting him again. He failed and Alex’s fist met with Yassen’s cheekbone. Yassen grunted and caught Alex by his wrists.

“Alex, calm down,” he commanded.

“Kill me! I know you want to.”

“No.”

“Then why are you here?!” Alex screamed out in desperation.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay!” Yassen answered, his voice slightly raised. Then added, lower; “I heard what happened and I had to see if you were okay.”

Alex, admitting defeat, felt all of his anger melt away and the only thing that was left were all the confusion, all the pain and all the sadness he had pushed away for far too long. Why… He… What? Yassen, looking out for him? He had to be dreaming. Yassen was dead. Yassen was gone and so would probably Alex be soon. Later, he’d be embarrassed by the outburst that followed, but in the moment there was nothing, absolutely nothing else he could do. He started shivering, trembling. He hyperventilated and his knees slowly caved beneath him. Yassen just watched him silently, still holding his wrists in a tight grip. Alex fell to his knees and the chilly breeze swept by. Only then Alex became aware that he had started crying. When he realized this, there was no way back. He felt like he was dying. He felt like a deer trapped in the headlights and he couldn’t breathe. Yassen finally seemed to grasp the situation and sat down next to Alex, letting go of his wrists slowly, just to see if the younger boy was going to start throwing punches again. Alex let his arms fall to his sides, barely knowing Yassen had let go of him. He was focusing on the fact that his lungs felt like they were burning and no matter how much he tried to breathe, it wasn’t enough. Suddenly Yassen was in front of him again, lightly placing his hands on the sides of Alex’ head.

“Look at me,” he said quietly. “Calm down.”

Alex started crying more violently and felt the Russian wrap his arms around his shaking body. Alex buried his face in Yassen’s jacket and held onto it as if his life depended on it.

“I’m not okay,” Alex stammered. “I’m not okay, Yassen.”

“I know,” Yassen whispered, and stroke his hair soothingly. “I know, Alex.”

“I got everything I wanted and Sabina is really trying, but I can’t,” Alex cried. “… I can’t relax, I don’t fit in. They don’t understand. There are so many people around me and I feel like I’m suffocating. They try to save me, but they can’t!”

“Then save yourself, I’ll hold them back,” Yassen murmured. “Everything will be okay.”

Alex looked into Yassen’s eyes and for the first time since Cairo, he actually believed it. It would be okay. He said nothing, but let the assassin hold him while he calmed down.

 

After Yassen had dried the last of Alex’s tears, he offered a hand to help Alex stand up. Alex took it. He was tired, so extremely tired. He felt empty, but also at ease. He didn’t know if that was because he had finally let out his emotions or if it was all Yassen. Probably a bit of both. There was no trace of anger left. Right now, he just wanted to sleep. He was prepared to put all his faith in the man who stood next to him. Yassen would understand and he would care. Alex knew he would never have to worry about MI6, CIA, ASIS or Scorpia again, if he walked by Yassen’s side. Alex stopped and pondered upon this for a second. Yassen was dangerous, he was perhaps one of the most dangerous men in the world. He had killed Alex’s uncle. Why did Alex care about him? Why did he trust him? When starting to doubt himself, Alex decidedly shook his head. He knew exactly why. He had known it after Eagle Strike, in the belief the Russian had died. Alex cared for him, maybe even loved him. He glanced up at Yassen, who were observing him. Yes, probably even loved, Alex told himself. For the first time in a long time, he smiled genuinely. Yassen smiled back and reached out his hand for Alex to take. Alex glanced up at the house behind them, seeing Sabina standing in a window. He raised his hand in a discreet wave, then he turned back to Yassen and took his hand. Together they started running, knowing it probably wouldn’t be long before the sound of sirens would pierce the calm night.

 

_-2 hours later-_

Mrs. Jones knocked on Alan Blunt’s door and was almost hoping for him to not let her in. Her wishes were in vain, since her superior made a come-in-gesture. Mrs. Jones entered the office and hoped to not look as nervous as she felt. She had become distinctly uncomfortable around her boss these days. He was not a pleasant man, but she hadn’t had such an intense feeling of slight disgust around him until now. She knew the meeting ahead might just make it a bit worse.

“Alex Rider has disappeared,” she stated as she approached Alan Blunt’s desk. He reached out his hand and she gave him a report she had been holding.

“He ran away from the Pleasure’s house two hours ago,” she then continued.

Alan Blunt grunted, sounding rather displeased. “It’s not our job to find angst-ridden, teenage runaways.”

“There might be more to this than you think,” Mrs. Jones added quickly, before her boss dismissed her. He remained silent, looking down at the same report he had been reading when she first came in. She decided his silence was an approving kind, so she continued.

“Sabina Pleasure said Alex acted rather oddly. She also saw him talk to a strange man, just across from their house. They seemed to be fighting at first, but then… then they ran away. Together. Sabina’s description of the man is what’s really putting a twist to the situation. She says it was Yassen Gregorovich.”

Alan Blunt looked up from his report and straight at her. He then opened the report she had handed him.

“Sabina’s testimony is on page 31, sir,” she said carefully.

He immediately found the right page and read it through. After quickly glancing at the rest of the report he finally closed it and sighed.

“What do we do about this?” Mrs. Jones wondered.

“Do we know any of Yassen’s potential hide-outs in the nearby area?” Blunt asked, looking distant.

“Yes, I put our best on it the moment I got the news,” Mrs. Jones answered.

“Good,” Blunt answered. “Isn’t K-unit already in America? Order them to go in, I want you to monitor it.”

“Yes, they are. But are you sure?” she asked. “As you can see in the report, it seems like Alex followed willingly. We both know Alex and Yassen always have had a… complicated relationship.”

“Now, Mrs. Jones,” Alan Blunt replied, ignoring her objection.

“I’ll see to it immediately,” Mrs. Jones said and left to office.

 

 

_-30 minutes later-_

Ben Daniels had trouble deciding what he hoped to find at the other side of the apartment door Wolf was going to smash in any minute now. Mrs. Jones had given him all the intel about Alex’s disappearance and he had to admit that if Alex had been threatened, he would probably have put up more of a fight than what was described. On the other hand, if Yassen Gregorovich actually was involved, no one knew what kind of leverage he might have on the young agent. Ben cleared his mind just as Wolf successfully broke the door. The leader went in first, his weapon ready. He practically oozed experience and self-confidence in situations like this. Ben followed quickly, then Eagle and last Snake. They were all armed and started to look through the different rooms. Ben checked through the kitchen. No one was there, and it didn’t seem like anyone had been there for a very long time, if ever.

“It’s all clear!” Wolf called out, stepping into the kitchen.

Ben heard Mrs. Jones in his in-ear monitor. “Report, Ben.”

“We’ve cleared the apartment,” he answered her. “They’re gone.”

“Wolf!” Snake called from the bedroom. “Get in here.”

Wolf shot Ben a look before the two of them hurried to the bedroom. Snake was standing by the bed. On top of the bedspread lay an envelope with “Mrs. Jones” written on it.

“Ma’am, we’ve encountered an… envelope,” Ben reported. “It has your name on it.”

“Open it,” Mrs. Jones answered. Did she sound… amused? Ben didn’t know, he had never heard her utter very many emotions at all, amusement even less.

“Shouldn’t we analyze it first?” Ben replied. “It can contain anything, it could be harmful.”

“Well, it’s too thin to be a bomb,” Snake remarked. Ben sent him a glare.

“It’s not going to be anything lethal. Open it,” Mrs. Jones assured.  “That’s an order, Ben.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he answered and reached for the envelope. He quickly opened it and was relieved when no powder or anything else just as suspicious was in sight. There wasn’t much text on the letter itself.  


 _“Dear Mrs. Jones,_  
I’m sure Sabina has told you I disappeared with a man looking like Yassen Gregorovich.  
Whether that’s true or not is none of your business.  
I’m only going to say this once; Leave us alone.  
Make Mr. Blunt understand that I have no intention of ever making a comeback.  
If you decide to pursue us, there will be blood.  
Once yours, but never again  
Alex Rider”

 

Ben smiled and read the letter aloud for his unit and Mrs. Jones to hear. It was met by silence.

“What are you going to do about them?” Ben asked Mrs. Jones after a while.

“About who?” Mrs. Jones answered and cut their connection. Ben pulled out the in-ear monitor and shook his head, though happy about her answer. His unit seemed to try grasping what had just happened.

“Yassen Gregorovich….” Snake said slowly. “Isn’t he an assassin?”

“Yes, he is. One of the most notorious. Trained by Scorpia,” Ben informed quickly.

“Did Cub just run away with a contract killer?” Eagle exclaimed, looking a bit nauseous.

“I do believe that’s the case,” Ben grinned.

“Always knew something was seriously wrong with that kid,” Wolf concluded, starting to laugh.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long! I'm working full time at the cemetery right now. (Yes. The cemetery. Don't even ask. It's like being a gardener.)  
> I've had to change a few warning about this story, cause the story kind of lived its own life in my head and i had to re-think my whole plan. So, re-read the warnings and stuff if you need to.  
> This is kind fo a filler chapter. Sorry. But it was needed. The next chapter will be up quicker darlings!

The next morning Alex awoke slowly, entangled among white sheets made of satin. He opened one eye and realized the sun was shining in through the hotel room’s blinds, which meant he had been sleeping for a long time. He closed his eyes again, taking a deep breath, snuggling into the pillow. The silence that surrounded him was not deafening like usually. This time the silence itself was as composed as a piece of classical music. It was calming, urging him to actually stay in bed for a while longer to properly wake up. He listened to his own breathing for a while, enjoying the moment while it lasted. He tried to remember the last time he had slept this well, but couldn’t think of it. A gentle knock on the door interrupted both the peaceful melody of silence and Alex’s trail of thought. He slowly turned over. Yassen was standing in the door way, leaning on the frame. His fair hair looked a bit untidy, but that was the only thing suggesting he had recently awoken.

“Did I wake you up?” he asked, to which Alex shook his head. Yassen smiled and walked over, kneeling on his own side of the bed, leaning over to kiss Alex on the forehead. Alex raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Was that all?” he teased. Yassen’s smile widened. Alex propped himself up, leaning on his elbow, to make it easier for Yassen to reach him. Yassen’s lips were smooth, in opposite to Alex’s own. Alex had the habit of ripping skin off of them when he became anxious, which resulted in them being constantly chapped. Alex did not have time to feel nervous about that though. Yassen put a hand on his back, pressing his body closer to Yassen’s own. Alex felt the other man’s tongue in his mouth and placed his hand on Yassen’s neck. Carefully he laid down and Yassen willingly followed, positioning himself over Alex. Yassen started to kiss his way from Alex’s neck, where he also left a nice hickey, to the lining of his boxers. Alex pulled his hand through Yassen’s short hair, not being able to help a moan escaping his lips once and again.

“Jesus,” Alex breathed as Yassen’s hands and, continuingly, lips explored his body. Yassen stopped for a moment, chuckling. Gently he carded his hand through Alex’s blonde hair, wiping a strand from his brown eyes. He placed another kiss on his forehead then got up. Alex groaned in disagreement.

“Breakfast,” Yassen announced as he walked through the door.

 

-

 

“I can totally get used to that,” Alex said as he entered the kitchen. Yassen glanced at him before turning back to the eggs in the frying pan he held in his hand.

“Me abandoning you in bed to save the eggs?” Yassen joked.

“No, you bloody idiot, the other part,” Alex replied, wrapping his arms around Yassen’s waist. “You think MI6 will really leave us alone?”

“If they know what’s best for them,” Yassen said.

Alex laughed. “Then we shouldn’t be too sure.”

Yassen turned around in Alex’s embrace and looked at him with a serious expression. “Alex, we’ll stay out of their way the best we can. If they find us, then we’ll deal with it.”

Alex nodded and stepped back. “So, where do we go now?”

“I thought about going back to Russia,” Yassen answered, smiling a little. “There are a few things I’d like to show you.”

Alex’s mind decided for a flashback, just by hearing the name of the country. Alex involuntarily closed his eyes and could hear his own heartbeat as loud as if it once again magnified by a megaphone in the hands of General Sarov. At this memory his current pulse quickened, his heart racing. Suddenly it felt difficult to breathe. This had happened a lot of times, and by now Alex knew how to make it stop. The key was his current pulse. He forced himself to open his eyes, looking down at his chest. No megaphone. Thinking about it, no gun pointed to his head. He took deep breaths, looking around the room, convincing himself there was no threat at all. Yassen stood over by the sink, looking strangely at him. He knew something was wrong, but watched instead of interacting. _He can probably see I’m handling it_ , Alex thought to himself. Only a few seconds later his breathing was back to normal and the sound of his own heartbeat had disappeared. He met Yassen’s gaze.

“What just happened?” the assassin asked calmly.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” Alex lied, smiling reassuringly. Yassen raised an eyebrow, but turned back to lift the frying pan off the stove.

“About Russia though,” Alex said. “Let’s just say the Motherland and I aren’t on especially good terms. Well, we weren’t when I left at least.”

Yassen spun around on his heels, furrowing his eyebrows slightly to show off his confusion. “You’ve been to Russia?”

Alex nodded. “Murmansk.”

Yassen looked puzzled for a moment, then his expression changed to one of discomfort. “The only thing I can think of in Murmansk that could be of any interest to a spy is the submarine graveyard.”

Alex contemplated what he should answer to that assumption. He settled for a vague; “That’s classified.”

To Alex’s surprise, Yassen burst out laughing. The sound of it was wonderful. It was much more gentle and genuine sounding than he had expected it to be. He had to make Yassen laugh more often. Despite that thought though, Alex crossed his arms and tilted his head slightly. “What’s so funny?”

“You have run away with me, a contract killer, who are on the most wanted lists in an unknown but surely impressive number of countries, but you are afraid to break the Official Secrets Act?”

“I’m not afraid of that,” Alex said quietly, looking Yassen straight in the eyes.

“You don’t want to talk about it?” Yassen wondered, nodding.

“Not today,” Alex answered and sat down on one of the chairs by the kitchen table.

Yassen nodded again and started to serve breakfast without further questions.

 

-

 

Yassen put the last plate back into its cupboard and turned around, leaning back against the counter. Alex had been standing right behind him. Now when Yassen could see him, he noted the young boy wore a rather worried expression. He was fidgeting with his hands, looking down at them as he did so.

“What are you thinking about?” Yassen asked gently, reaching out to put his hands on Alex’s.

“I was just…” Alex met his gaze, sighing. “I just wondered…”

Alex fell silent and Yassen waited patiently, knowing it wouldn’t take much pressure before Alex would seal off his wonderings on the tip of his tongue and never let Yassen hear them again. He looked at the boy and saw he was in deep thought and calculation. Yassen wanted to reach out, pull him close, and let their lips meet. He wanted to assure that this was it, if Alex wanted it. This was all he could give and he would give it without hesitation, without a single second thought, because only one thing mattered to Yassen Gregorovich and that one thing was a fifteen year old human with fair hair and brown eyes and too old eyes in which you could read out all the suffering and misery they had seen, if you just looked close enough. Yassen said nothing. He waited and he felt slightly worried, which confused him. He tried to think back at the last time he felt worried in this way and realized he couldn’t remember. All his fears were confirmed when Alex let a quiet, hesitant question slip out between his lips;

“Why are you doing this for me?”

Yassen forced himself to not spin around and hide, he stood still and he knew Alex could feel him tense as they were still holding hands, not as if Alex wouldn’t have noticed it anyway, but the younger one now tried to withdraw his hands. Yassen caught them again, pulling Alex closer, looking into his eyes. He looked close enough to see the misery. His heart was racing, his own pulse deafening. He planned to say “I don’t know” but when heard a completely different construction of words roll of his tongue.

“Because I care about you.”

Yassen felt Alex practically radiated confusion and wished he had been more in his right mind, more in control, but the truth was Yassen doubted his own motives, just like Alex did. Although he felt something deep down he couldn’t quite see it yet, he couldn’t put it into words, he couldn’t wrap his thoughts around it. He knew he had to be patient, love always demands patience and if he was right, which he most often was, this thing he felt had to be love. A feeling he had denied himself for a long time.

“Okay.”

Yassen’s attention was brought back to Alex when the single word broke the silence. Yassen nodded to the boy, answering;

“Okay.”

“I have another question,” Alex said, letting out a nervous laugh.

“What is it?” Yassen wondered, caressing the backs of Alex’s hands with his thumbs.

“It might be a sensible subject,” Alex coughed.

Yassen smiled a little. “Just ask.”

“Are you going to keep… working?”

Yassen furrowed his eyebrows. He knew this would have to be brought up at some point, he just didn’t think it’d be so soon.

“You mean: Am I going to continue to kill people?”

“Well, yes, since that mainly is your occupation,” Alex rolled his eyes.

“How do you feel about it?” Yassen asked.

“How do I..? Well. I don’t know,” Alex answered. “I just don’t want to be involved.”

“Will you be able to look at me if I come home with fresh blood on my hands?”

“Hypothetically or theoretically?”

“Hypothetically,” Yassen smirked, then lowering his voice. “I promise to wash my hands before I come home.”

Alex shook his head, smiling widely. All the previous signs of nervousness were gone. “I’m not sure what I think about it.”

“We’ll wait to decide,” Yassen announced. “We won’t run out of money for a while.”

Alex nodded and wrapped his arms around Yassen’s upper body. Yassen felt content with how Alex leaned on him, seemingly fitting so well against his body. Alex let his head rest on Yassen’s shoulder.

“We’d have to travel a lot,” Yassen remarked, not entirely letting go of the subject. “You wouldn’t be able to have a real home. I want to give you a home.”

“Home is not always a specific geographic place, Yassen. My home is by your side.”

Yassen wanted to say something to that, but couldn’t grasp the right words. He stayed quiet for a while, before pressing a gentle kiss on top of Alex’s head, hugging him firmer.

“Let’s get out of here, _lyubimaya_ ,” Yassen said, letting Alex go, ruffling his hair as he passed on his way to the bathroom. Alex smiled to him, and it made Yassen feel more alive than he’d felt in a long time.

 

-

_At the same time, at another place_

Alan Blunt looked out through the window of the airplane. It was cloudy and impossible to see anything. It was a shame. Flying over the Atlantic provided a magnificent view on most days. With a sigh he took notice of the steps closing in on him. He identified the person by the rhythm of their walk – it was his assistant.

“Sir, Tulip Jones have tried to reach you for the second time now. She’s growing very impatient.”

“Stop answering her calls then,” Blunt answered shortly, waving at the young woman to leave him. He leaned back in his most comfortable seat and thought the upcoming situation over and over in his head. Had he made the right decision? It was the most practical one. He knew there would indeed be some nasty consequences, but he couldn’t let a chance like this slip through. It was a miracle the opportunity had even appeared in the first place. Mrs. Jones would definiately be furious when he came back to London. He didn't like to keep things from her, but he had to do what was necessary. It wasn’t too late to cancel the operation, but the knowledge that he would never get this chance again made Blunt greedy. He disliked to be defeated or out-smarted. He glanced out through the window one more time and made his decision. He took out his phone and pressed a series of numbers. 

"The Operation will proceed as planned. When are you ready to move out?"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not speak Russian so if Google Translate decided to screw it up, then it's not my fault. Sorry in advance.   
> Hope you like it.
> 
> THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO HAS LEFT KUDOS AND STUFF IT MAKES ME SO HAPPY YOU CAN'T EVEN IMAGINE!

“Yasha…” Alex tried the name out, as they waited for the lift. “Yasha Gregorovich.”

Yassen watched him with amusement.

“It suits you. It’s really weird that you have two names and both of them suits you equally well,” Alex asserted. “I’m not sure what to call you now.”

Yassen shrugged. “Call me whatever you want.”

“Yasha… It seems so…” Alex paused, looking for the right word.

“So?” Yassen urged him.

“So personal,” Alex responded. “It sounds really weird when I say it, but it makes sense in my head.”

“I’m sure it does,” Yassen smiled.

The lift arrived empty, which was relieving for both of them, this meaning they could continue their discussion.

“The two names really fit the respective personality,” Alex explained. Yassen just nodded.

Alex pressed the button for the ground floor of the hotel and watched the doors silently gliding shut. He let go of Yassen history and birth name, which he just had learned and thought about the endless opportunities spreading out before him. They had not yet decided where they were going to go next. Yassen had purposed they’d go to the closest train station or airport and look at the departures, deciding on a whim. Not having a plan made them harder to track down and also it was fun. Alex breathed in, wondering if this was what freedom really felt like. He could go wherever he wanted to go, with the only person in the world he wanted to travel with.

“I’m going to have to send postcards to Tom and Ben,” Alex spoke up, smiling widely to Yassen who answered with a slight shake of his head. Alex shrugged as the older man chuckled.

“You’d never be able to be an assassin,” Yassen remarked jokingly. “You’re too sentimental.”

“Hey,” Alex said, nudging Yassen with his elbow. “You are sentimental too!”

“Well, what can I say? You bring out the best in me,” Yassen answered lightly. Now it was Alex’s turn to shake his head.

“I love you,” Yassen said suddenly. Quickly Alex looked up at the man with wide eyes. He knew the older man had feelings for him, it had been kind of hard to miss, but for some reason he had never expected this sort of verbal confirmation. He hadn’t even thought of it. Yassen seemed aware of his surprise, Alex noted, since he was looking at him quite fondly.

“You never thought I would say it?” Yassen smirked.

“Yassen, I…” Alex started, but was interrupted by Yassen who placed a finger across his lips.

“Don’t answer me now, I didn’t say it just to hear you say it back,” he said quietly. “I want you to think about it. Really think.”

Alex shook his head slightly, taking a step closer to Yassen, tip-toeing to be able to kiss him. He put a lot of effort into the kiss itself, hoping it would give Yassen the impression that he already knew what his answer would be, even though he respected the other man’s wish. He placed his arms around the Russian’s neck. Yassen let his hands rest at Alex’s waist. The lift stopped and a loud ping announced the doors were about to open. Alex and Yassen parted in the fraction of a second. Alex had to bite his inner cheek, trying to not show off the ridiculously wide smile his lips wanted to form. Yassen had taken a step in front of him, ready to walk out first, making it impossible for Alex to see his expression. Perhaps that was for their own good though, Alex thought. He seriously doubted he’d be able to resist bursting out laughing, or kissing Yassen again. He slipped his hand into Yassen’s and the assassin held it gently. The doors opened fully and Yassen stepped out, Alex following close behind.

 

A bad feeling crept upon Alex as soon as he was out.  He tensed. Yassen felt it, squeezed his hand and then let it go. They kept moving, the feeling grower stronger in Alex’s chest. Something was wrong. He scanned the room, trying to find any irregularities.

“Stop,” Alex hissed, putting a hand on Yassen’s arm. Yassen stopped immediately and at the same time Alex felt the barrel of a gun making contact with his neck momentarily. He slowly raised his hands. Yassen turned around to ask what Alex meant and obviously caught sight of the, for Alex still unknown, attacker. Judging from the assassin’s expression, it wasn’t good. A sudden movement behind Yassen’s back caught Alex’s attention.

“Behind you!” Alex called out to the assassin, making someone behind him wrench his arm backwards, locking a handcuff around his wrist. Alex sent the elbow of his free arm backwards, hoping for some luck. His elbow hit something, probably someone’s nose, but before the person in question had even let go of his arm, another one tackled him to the ground, leaving no time for Alex to try to escape. With his body pressed to the floor, there wasn’t much he could do. He had a knee in his back and he could clearly hear the click as someone cuffed his other hand. He couldn’t even turn his head to see how Yassen was doing. Someone quickly checked that the handcuffs were secured, then the knee disappeared and Alex was wrenched up from the floor, back on his feet.

A shot was fired. Alex looked up just in time to see the impact on Yassen’s chest, where blood immediately started to flow.

“Yassen!” Alex shrieked in horror as the assassin’s body hit the floor. The two men next to him grabbed hold of him as he tried to launch himself forward, toward the injured man.

 

 

Yassen heard his name being called out. He heard the sheer terror in the voice of the 15 year old boy who screamed. There was nothing he could do, and he hated it. He landed on his back on the carpet floor and had no chance of breaking the fall. Blood gushed from his chest and his shirt was already more red than white. Yassen breathed heavily and tried to sit up, despite his condition. It didn’t work. His limbs weren’t answering to his orders and he remained laying limp on the floor. His vision blurred occasionally, as if someone couldn’t find the correct focus on a camera. He heard Alex scream again. Yassen turned his head and his eyes immediately fell on the youngling. He was struggling, giving the two SAS men who held him back complete hell. They deserved it, Yassen thought, appreciating the gesture of care. As soon as Alex realized Yassen was watching him, he stopped. Yassen, to his own surprise, felt an urge to start panic as he looked at the broken boy. This time it wouldn’t be possible to put him back together again, he realized with great sadness. The adrenaline had been keeping the pain away for a while, but now it was hitting him with full force, making it difficult to breathe. He wasn’t scared of dying. He had always known this was probably how his life was going to end, if it happened sooner or later, well, that wasn’t too important. But the fact that they, cause by this time both of them had realized who was behind this, made Alex watch it made Yassen nauseous. As if they hadn’t hurt that boy enough. Yassen heard steps closing in, coming to a halt next to him and looking up he saw Alan Blunt staring down at him. The grey man’s gaze was close to amused.

“I’ve been waiting for a long time for this,” Blunt said, the edges of his lips twitching, probably the closest to a genuine smile the man had ever gotten.

“I didn’t know you did your own dirtywork,” Yassen hissed back, careful to show no trace of pain in his voice.

“One can make exceptions,” Blunt answered.

Yassen glanced at Alex, who was standing absolutely still, observing his boss. Alex could’ve (and probably should have) been scared of his superior, but looked nothing but furious. He oozed confidence even though they were in disadvantageous position. His jaw were set, head held high. His hands were locked behind his back, but Yassen guessed his fists were clenched too. All eyes were on Blunt. A quick movement by the man above him made Yassen’s gaze snap back, trying to find out what had just happened. The answer made him clench his teeth in frustration. Blunt held a gun in his left hand, deliberately keeping it hidden from Alex’s view. Yassen wanted to scream out in anger, but didn’t. He held up his indifferent façade, although wondering if his eyes were betraying him this time. He already knew what was going to happen next. In Russian, a language Alex didn’t know, but Alan Blunt more than surely did, he said;

“Ne delayte etogo pered nim.” Then nodded in Alex’s direction. _Don’t do it in front of him_.

“Vy dolzhny byli podumat' ob etom ran'she,” Blunt answered with almost perfect pronunciation. _You should have thought about that earlier._

Yassen swallowed, turned his head toward Alex who caught his gaze.

“ _Don’t look,”_ he called out.

Blunt raised his gun. Alex broke free and screamed out in horror.

“YASHA!”

Yassen smiled at the use of his birth name. It was his beginning and his end. He was once again Yasha Gregorovich. Even though only one bullet was fired, two individuals’ sparks of life were put out.

 

 

The name was out of Alex’s mouth before he had realized it. He landed on his knees next to Yassen at the exact same time the bullet buried itself in the Russian’s head. Blood and other substances which Alex didn’t want to know the origin of splattered over him. He expected someone to immediately drag him away, but nobody seemed to make a move.

“Yassen…” Alex said quietly, deliberately not using the dead man’s birth name. It was to intimate. It was not for Mr. Blunt’s ears. “No, no…”

Alex wanted to touch him, but the handcuffs wouldn’t budge of course, even though he struggled as well as he could. Alex turned his gaze to the ceiling. He tried to take deep breaths while blinking away the tears in the corners of his eyes. Some of them fell, plowing their way through blood and brain matter. He tried to block it out; the fact that Yassen Gregorovich lay dead at his feet. His last bridge to sanity, to satisfaction, had been burned to the ground. Yassen was most certainly dead and Alex was most certainly not. The emotions were ripping at his seams. He tried his hardest to not break down among the SAS men and his superior and instinctively he did it the way he had always done it. He turned to Yassen. He looked down at the body. The Russian’s fair hair had been discolored by his own blood. His blue eyes, which were full of affection just a moment earlier, were now cold and dead. Empty. The indifferent expression which in some ways had become the man’s trademark, was forever changed for a concerned one. It irritated Alex, it made him angry. He knew he was the reason behind that expression and he wanted to wipe it off. Without it, without the concern, Yassen would be alive. Alex squeezed his eyes shut, again attempting to shut it all out. Tears streamed down Alex’s face the past moments replayed over and over again behind his eyelids. One second the lips that now quickly paled had said “I love you”, smiling, the next they were protecting him in a “Don’t look”. The blue eyes had a minute ago looked so full of affection, now they were empty shells. Alex heard words being spoken, but he didn’t have the energy to listen. Someone firmly grabbed his right arm, making him stand up. Alex followed the soldier’s implied movements without arguing. There was no use. Neither was there any use trying to fight the tears, which now streamed down his cheeks. Alex let himself be led through the door out into the lobby of the hotel. In the doorway he turned around, glancing at the body of Yassen Gregorovich, knowing he would never see the man again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is not everything it could have been, but to be honest this is the best I can do at the moment. I hope it's enough.   
> Have a great day/night everyone!


	4. Chapter 4

Sitting on a plane to somewhere unknown to him, Alex realized he had lost track of both time and what was going on around him. The pain in his bleeding wrists was the only thing keeping him grounded – and it was barely. He remembered being led out through the lobby, which had been crowded. People looked shocked, staring after him with disgust written all over their expressions. A car had taken him to an airport and now he was here, on the plane. He didn’t know for how long they had been in the air, or how long this journey would take. He hadn’t asked anyone either. A soldier sat a few rows in front of him, but the stern look on his face made Alex sure he wouldn’t get an answer even if he asked. Alex didn’t see much from his seat, which perhaps was the exact plan. He didn’t know and he tried to not care. He couldn’t help wondering if Alan Blunt was somewhere on the plane and decided he probably was. The man would probably want to keep an eye at his most effective agent. Alex wondered if they would force him to go out on missions again. The mere thought of it made him sick. He leaned back, closing his eyes shortly, before opening them again. Yassen’s last seconds alive replayed before his eyes. He remembered he probably still had blood splatter all over his face. Alex bit his tongue, trying to stop himself from vomiting.

 -

Five hours into the ten and a half hour flight Alan Blunt asked the guarding soldier to fetch Alex Rider for him. He figured the boy had had enough time to cool off a bit. Alan listened carefully for signs of struggle, but a minute later Alex Rider walked up to him from another part of the plane. Without resistance, Blunt noted as he kept his eyes at the report he had in his hands, just to look as indifferent as possible to the peculiar situation. The truth was, when Alex Rider sat down in front of Alan Blunt, the old man felt what he knew must be regret. It tugged at the corners of his mind, but as the professional he was, he pushed it away. The operation had been carried through, successfully, and he couldn’t undo anything even if he wanted to. Not that he wanted to. He looked at his report a moment longer before looking up at the boy in front of him. Alex was a wreck. His posture was slumped, exhausted and absolutely unlike his normal one. Yassen’s blood had stained most of his face and hair, his gaze was empty. Blunt had expected to see some rage. He had expected to be attacked, screamed at, cursed – but Alex said nothing. Only watched him with glazed eyes.

“Quite a stunt you managed to pull there, Alex,” Blunt said, looking carefully at the boy, estimating him. “Fortunately something good came out of it.”

Alex remained quiet, but at the last phrase his expression changed to one of sorrow and fury. The fury drained away quickly though, leaving only the sorrow in his eyes behind. He looked down on the floor, letting his fringe fall down in his face. Blunt was bombarded with emotions and reactions, but once again pushed them all away. It had been worth it. Yassen Gregorovich was off the streets – that was the only thing that mattered.

“You might be wondering where we’re going, or perhaps you’ve already figured it out,” Blunt continued nonchalantly. “We’re almost halfway to London, which is our destination. When we land, you’ll be taken to a hotel where you’ll stay for the next couple of days. We’ve also called Ben Daniels. He’s flying in from Siberia to keep you company in this… difficult time. He’ll arrive a two hours later than us.”

Alex looked up at the mention of Agent Daniels, but didn’t look happier than before. He simply gave a meek nod as answer before looking away again.

“I suggest you go to bed immediately when you have gotten to your room. Please refrain from doing anything stupid, like trying to escape. You are in custody, so don’t get any ideas. The only thing keeping you out of our own holding cells right now is my compassion and my compassion only. That could quickly change,” Blunt went on. Alex met his gaze defiantly.

“Remember that this is one of the few things that you can’t blame me for, Alex,” Blunt told him. He didn’t like the look on the boy’s face, therefore he’d make it disappear. “This is all your own making. Sometimes you have to make sacrifices in order to let go of the past, it’ll be worth it in the end. You’ll thank me one day.”

“Shut up,” Alex hissed out, in a menacing tone.

Blunt refrained from smiling, even though he felt like doing it. “That was all.”

When Alex got up and turned away, Blunt caught sight of his wrists. He pointed at them, and the soldier nodded.

“Alex, one last thing,” he quickly called out before the boy had hurried away. Alex froze, but didn’t turn around. “Clean yourself up a bit.”

 -

By the time someone had removed the cuffs and showed Alex to a bathroom, he was trembling. The moment he closed the bathroom door behind him he gripped the sink so hard his knuckles whitened. He felt sick. He met his own gaze in the mirror, but could barely recognize himself. Half of his face was covered with blood splatter, his brown eyes were almost as empty as Yassen’s had been. He had to take control over himself. He had to wash the blood away. Oh dear god, he needed to get the blood off. He turned on the tap with shaking hands and splashed his face with cold water before starting to desperately scrub his face. He scrubbed so hard it hurt. The water and blood mixed with his tears. It was safe to cry now; nobody could see, nobody would know. He made the mistake of opening his eyes and saw the blood flush down the drain. Yassen’s blood. Alex had to puke. Said and done, he quickly opened the lid of the toilet and out came everything his stomach could possibly manage to send up. He sank down on the floor, unable to hold himself up anymore. He cried and cried, kicked the wall in frustration. He hated not being in control of his emotions. He had to take control.

 -

Alex took a deep breath as he stepped out from the plane into the night in England. Back where he had begun. He looked around Heathrow and felt nothing. He looked at Mr. Blunt walking in front of him and felt nothing. Since his meltdown on the toilet, he had felt comfortably numb, although sadness was tugging at him, threatening to drown him if he gave it a chance. He didn’t. The cold metal of the cuffs, which were once again around his wrists, tore up the wounds which had started to heal and now made them bleed again. Apparently Blunt had been serious about the custody thing. Blunt sat in one car, which Alex presumed were heading to Royal & General. Alex was sat down in the other one and the ride to the hotel begun. Alex felt nothing.

 

-

_30 minutes later, Royal & General _

“You… YOU DID WHAT?”

Tulip Jones had never before raised her voice at her boss, but extreme situations demands extreme measures.

“We eliminated the world’s most notorious contract killer, with very limited consequences.”

“Limited consequences…” Mrs. Jones repeated the words with disgust dripping from every syllable.

She groaned with frustration and anger. Only once before had she experienced such a strong urge to throw something across the room, smashing things, perhaps even turning a desk over. A statuette was, unfortunately, within reach. She stood up from the chair she was sitting in and started to pace around the big office. She took the liberty of massaging her temples. Her headache was bad and the day was far from over yet. She craved a peppermint pastille.

“Were you aware of the exact nature Alex’s and Yassen’s relationship?” The head of MI6’s Special Operations Division asked sternly.

“Well, you obviously were and that didn’t seem to stop you,” Mrs. Jones yelled. The man behind the desk remained silent.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I thought I was clear about us leaving the two of them alone. Exactly what was it you didn’t understand?!” She was back in control. Her tone was back to business-like, even though a slight amount of anger escaped through her mask.

“You forget who the head of this division is. You didn’t need to know about the operation. I’m not in any way obligated to inform you or ask you for permission,” Alan Blunt stated coldly, looking straight at her with his grey eyes. For a moment Mrs. Jones wondered if she now saw the same Alan Blunt that Alex Rider saw every time he walked into the office. She was fairly convinced that was the case.

“Where is Alex now?” she asked.

“In a hotel, not far from here. Ben Daniel’s on his way to stay with Alex for a few days.”

“That’s not going to help,” Mrs. Jones argued.

“We’ll see.”

“I want you to know that this is cold, even for you, Alan,” Mrs. Jones said after a moment’s silence.

Blunt rose from his chair. “Excuse me, Mrs. Jones, but we’ve put down one of the most dangerous men in the world and with that, saved many lives…”

“Put him down,” Mrs. Jones echoed. “You ‘put him down’?”

“Yes.”

“You say that as if he was a rabid dog.”

“He was a rabid human.”

Mrs. Jones turned around and left the office without another word, knowing that if she had stayed for a moment longer she would have punched Alan Blunt straight in his grey face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've said it before and I'll say it again; This fanfic could have been so much more, but now it is what it is.  
> Please let me know what you think and THANK YOU SO MUCH to those of you who've left kudos and stuff like that. It means more than I could possibly express. Thank you <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is gonna be short as fuck, I'm sorry, but it didn't make sense to put this and the next chapter together, so it had to be this way. You'll understand when the next chapter is up.   
> Hope you like it!  
> thanks for your support and kudos and everything <3

Alex stood on the roof of the modern skyscraper where it all had begun. No, perhaps where the beginning had ended. The escape from the hotel had been easy, Blunt had underestimated him as usual. As soon as he had gotten out he had started running and this was where his feet had taken him. The roof felt familiar beneath his bare feet. He stood in the middle of it, remembering what had once happened there. A harsh wind was tangling his longer than usual hair, biting his tearstained cheeks with the coldness of autumn. He looked over his shoulder, hoping to see Yassen standing there, just like he had last time. If Alex had taken the advice the Russian had given him that time, he might never have returned to this roof. Especially not with such a heavy mind, such a broken look in his eyes.

 

_“Believe me it would be better if we didn’t meet again. Go back to school. Go back to your life. And the next time they ask you, say no. Killing is for grown-ups and you’re still a child.”_

Even back then the Russian had tried to protect him. He had tried to warn him. Alex raised his eyes to the sky. He could see Yassen in the helicopter, saluting him before disappearing. He walked slowly across the concrete. He didn’t believe in life after death. He never had. He had never been fond of any religion. Nothing really calmed him in this moment other than the thought of peace. Complete darkness. He didn’t really want another life, he had had enough with the one he had already been given. He just wanted to sleep, becoming nothing. Although, he knew he would never be ‘nothing’. His deeds had saved a lot of people, killed a lot of people – he was not going to be forgotten for a long while. Every once in a while someone would mention his name, either with awe and respect or disgust and perhaps even fear.

Alex Rider stepped up on the heightened edge. Earlier he had thought he’d be doubting his decision by now, but he felt no doubt at all. He looked down at the street below him. In his head he apologized to all the miniature humans for what they were about to see, for all the pain he might cause them. He really meant it. Closing his eyes, it all flashed before his eyes so very quickly. He could barely catch glimpses of the different scenarios, but it was enough to make the pain so overwhelming, so explosive, he thought he was going to erupt before he even landed. Yassen in the light of the streetlamp. His declaration of love and the bright smile that had accompanied it. The look in his eyes before he let out his last words, his final attempt to keep Alex safe.

 

_“I love you… I don’t want you to answer now. I want you to think about it. Really think.”_

_“Don’t look!”_

 

Alex inhaled deeply, exhaling slowly. He remembered how it felt to hold Yassen’s hand in his. How it felt to kiss his lips. How it felt to have hope for the future again. How it felt to think he would spend the rest of his life with the only person he still loved. Alex opened his eyes again. The people below him were still walking back and forth, getting into cabs, hanging outside the cinema. From this moment on, their safety was no longer his problem. Whether they continued walking or stopped wasn’t his responsibility. Never would another human life lay in the palm of his hands, be a weight on his shoulders. He wouldn’t have to add any more lost lives to his conscience after this. Alex raised his gaze, looking into the almost black sky. He closed his eyes.

“I love you too,” he said quietly, leaping forward.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENT WITH ME. Now enjoy!

Ben Daniels looked down into the 6 feet deep open grave that lay before his feet. It was empty, but wouldn’t be for long. K-unit would later lower the coffin in which Alex Rider was going to be laid to rest. Ben was the first one to arrive to the funeral, which he had decided to be, since he felt responsible of this. He wasn’t sure, but couldn’t help thinking that he was one of the few people who actually were close to Alex. He was sweating now though, even though the autumn winds were tugging at his black clothes and short brown hair and the sun hadn’t even shown up today. It was a gray day. He guessed it fitted the scenery, but it still bugged him because Alex wouldn’t have want it to be gray. Ben thought about the funeral and which other guests would arrive. He knew K-unit would be there of course. His old unit had been devastated by the news of Cub’s death, and had come to Ben with a lot of questions he technically wasn’t allowed to give the answer too. It didn’t feel right to keep them out though. They knew Alex had disappeared with Yassen Gregorovich and wondered if the known assassin had killed him. Ben had let the unit discuss the matter and had dropped very loose hints and made approving/disapproving noises when certain theories were brought to the table. K-unit had ended up with a somewhat consistent and correct version of what had happened and were even more upset than before. After Mrs. Jones had filled Ben in what had went down after their operation in the states, he had decided to resign from MI6 and go back to his old unit. He would never be able to look Alan Blunt in the eyes and resist the urge to try to kill the man. His papers had been returned yesterday, approving of his transference. He would tell his unit today. Apart from his unit though, he knew close to nothing about who the young agent had been close too. He knew Jack had died, and apart from her, Alex never really talked about anyone else. Ben sighed and took a few steps back from the edge of the hole. He wouldn’t get no answer down in that pit. He looked to the gravestone standing right next to where Alex’s would be raised at some point and read the name on it. Ian Rider. Ben let out a frustrated sigh and felt his eyes fill starting to with tears. This was not the time. The ceremony hadn’t even started yet. The sound of an engine being turned off became the distraction Ben Daniels needed. He turned around and took a few slow steps back toward the path, getting a good look of the parking lot. A family of three exited the car, all of them dressed in black. A mother, a father and a son, Ben guessed. The boy looked to be in the same age as Alex and had spikey black hair. He had a serious face and when they got closer, so close that Ben could catch his eye, he knew this boy knew the truth about Alex. Maybe not all of it, but enough. The look in his eyes were the kind which no one at his age should have. The boy walked a bit in front of his parents, who seemed to be bickering about something. The boy looked quite athletic and in good shape. He looked Ben straight in the eyes and held out his hand when within reach.

“Tom Harris,” he introduced himself. “Alex’s best friend.”

“Ben Daniels,” Ben answered, shaking the teenager’s hand. “Alex’s… friend.”

“And colleague?” the boy asked in all seriousness.

Ben couldn’t find it within himself to lie. “Yes.”

Tom Harris nodded, then turned back to his parents and interrupted their argument. He seemed to be scolding them pretty bad. Another car arrived, another family exited. Also a family of three, but with a daughter in the mix instead of a son. Ben recognized them from Alex’s files. Sabina, Liz and Edward Pleasure were making their way to the open grave. They stopped a bit from Ben, Tom Harris and his parents, quietly talking to each other. After a while Edward Pleasure walked up to Ben, after quietly greeting the Harris family. Ben and Edward shook hands.

“Colleague of Alex’s?” the older man wondered, squinting at Ben. Ben knew Edward to be a journalist.

“Yes, sir,” Ben answered. “And a friend.”

“Sorry for your loss,” Edward said, sounding genuine, even though Ben couldn’t help but feel an accusing tone in his evaluating look.

“Same to you and your family. I know you were close.”

“Yes, we were… Still can’t believe he actually did this,” Edward said, looking down at his boot as he kicked a little stone on the muddy ground. “I don’t think anyone of us could even imagine what he went through though.”

Ben wanted to flinch at those words cause he knew that Edward didn’t even know all of it. He found himself unable to answer, opening his mouth, but closing it immediately again. His salvation was three more cars arriving at the parking lot. He saw Wolf in the driver’s seat of one of them and excused himself to Edward Pleasure. He walked hurriedly past the Harris’ family and the other Pleasures, urgent to reach his unit. He needed them. He hadn’t realized it before, but he had felt strangely alone. He had been alone in his knowledge about Alex Rider for a long time, but together with Alex the loneliness had died. Now he needed his friends to break his own fall and he knew they would. He was so focused at K-units car that he forgot to pay attention to the other new arrivals. He jogged the last bit to Wolf who had just shut his car door. When he reached his unit leader, he embraced him. Wolf seemed a bit taken aback, but soon relaxed in the embrace, wrapping his arms around Ben. They broke it off, and Ben moved on to hug Eagle and Snake too. They ended up standing in a group right next to the car, Ben opposite to Wolf and Snake, next to Eagle. From where he stood, Ben could see the grave and the other guests standing at a distance from it, now watching them with curiosity.

His gaze got stuck on Tom Harris by chance and the look in the youngster’s eyes made him frown, in wonder what he was looking at. Tom Harris looked angry, really pissed off to be honest.

“Not a very nice day,” Wolf commented, his eyes fixed on something behind Ben’s back. “And it’s about to get even worse.”

Ben turned around and what he saw hit him in the stomach like a baseball bat. His ears started ringing and his vision blurred for a moment. Outside the other cars were only MI6 people, not that they upset the SAS soldier that much. One of them did though. In a dark gray suit and combed back hair he stood, the man who had started something he later had let spin out of control. The man who had decided Alex Rider wasn’t worthy of a normal life, a childhood, because he was too valuable a possession to let go to waste. Next to him stood Mrs. Jones in a black, long dress, looking frightened and upset. Her eyes were red and she held a napkin in her hand. Ben approached them before thinking about what he was doing. Mrs. Jones stepped forward to meet him.

“I tried,” she said, voice trembling with tears. “I told him not to come, but he refused. He…”

Ben lightly touched her arm as a sign of him believing her, but then dodged around her, walking straight into Mr. Blunt’s personal space.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” he yelled.

Mr. Blunt cleared his throat, wriggling a bit, but not taking his eyes off Ben’s. “I’m here to attend a funeral, just like you. And for you, that’s “sir.”.”

“My ass it is!” Ben yelled back. In the corner of his eyes he saw people from the crowd drawing closer to them, including Tom Harris and his own unit.

“Mr. Daniels, this is not appropriate…”

“No, you know what, YOU being here is not appropriate!” Ben growled, knowing he had to control himself to not cause a too big scene. Wolf suddenly appeared by his side, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Mr Blunt looked carefully at him, but said nothing. He held his head high, his back straight. He was confident. He thought he was still in control, still had their respect. Well, damn it, he was wrong and Ben was going to tell him.

“You are the one who made this happen in the beginning,” Ben argued, keeping his voice down, but it was still burning with anger. “By pulling the trigger on the only one he still actually loved and trusted you pulled the trigger on him too. You know this is your fault, Blunt. Not even you can be this blind. You know you did this.”

“You are out of line, Daniels,” Blunt muttered, now fury awaking in his eyes. He was not used to being questioned and he was not going to take it with silence. “Move aside.”

“No,” Ben said with force. He wasn’t done yet. “You know what the problem with you people is? You send people to their deaths in the morning but you are never there to the deliver the news to their families in the middle of the night. You have probably never rung a door bell at two am and faced some poor woman who starts crying the moment she sees you, and told her that her husband has died. You aren’t even the ones doing the killings anymore! You don’t pull the trigger, you get someone else to do it for you. You have become reckless with other human lives, because YES. THEY ARE HUMAN. THEY ARE HUMAN TOO EVEN THOUGH YOU TEND TO FORGET ABOUT IT. You forget it, you stop seeing them as human, to you they are names on papers, they are ink, and with a wave of your hand and a signature they can be killed. How are you different from Yassen Gregorovich? Huh? How, in what way are you different?! You kill whoever you want and no one questions it if you just breathe ‘national security’...”

The soldier stopped to take a deep breath. Everyone was staring at him and suddenly he felt very aware of it. _Fuck_ , he thought. _In for a penny in for a pound_. He lowered his voice.

“If you had just looked at him, really, properly looked at him after Cairo you should have known. If you had really properly looked at him after Stormbreaker, you would have known to pull him out immediately and send him to shrink. But you didn’t. You kept glancing at him, you kept telling yourself that he was fine, you kept telling yourself that he would be fine. He wasn’t. Now he’s dead. I know why you didn’t look at him though. I know why you keep feeding yourself lies. You wouldn’t be able to live with yourself otherwise. You killed a fourteen year old boy, Mr. Blunt. Congratulations.”

“Alex was sixteen.”

“Alex was doomed the moment he set foot at Royal and Genreal Bank, and you know it,” Ben countered. He was breathing heavily. Wolf’s hand was gone from his shoulder, but he realized it was now holding his upper arm, making sure he wasn’t going to lash out at the director of Special Operations. Ben glanced over his shoulder, Wolf met his eyes and Ben saw nothing but approval. The rest of K-unit stood right behind him, backing up every word. Tom Harris was standing next to Wolf, staring at Alan Blunt. Judging from the boy’s intense glare Ben thought they must have met before. Not until now, also Alan Blunt turned his head and looked at the teenager approaching. He said nothing, but looked at him with suspicion. Tom lashed out, quickly and with force. Neither Ben nor Wolf had time to react before the teenager landed his fist at Mr. Blunt’s face. The head of Special Operations gasped, more with shock than pain, but still. Ben leaped forward, wrapping his arms around Tom before he could take another swing. He eyed the security guards carefully, looking to see if any one of them made a move, they didn’t. Crawley, standing at Mr. Blunt’s side, did nothing either. Blunt looked between Tom and Crawley with a mixture of rage and embarrassment.

“That’s for Alex, you scum!” Tom screamed, making an effort to try to break free from Ben’s grasp. “I know he have wanted to do that since the start, and don’t for a second think that fear held him back. He didn’t do it because he knew you weren’t worth it. But now it was worth it, because you deserved it.”

“Crawley,” Mr. Blunt said through his hand, which he was holding to cover his nose, motioning to Crawley to take the kid. Crawley moved forward, Wolf stepped forward a little, ready to put up a fight for the teenager’s freedom. Ben sighed to himself, wondering what he had started. Would he end up getting everyone at the funeral arrested even before the ceremony itself had started? He found himself wondering if Alex had appreciated it, or hated it. Crawley looked at Wolf and walked around him, taking place by Mrs. Jones’ side. She turned to him and smiled a weak, but genuine smile. Crawley laid an arm around her waist, pulling her a bit closer to him. She followed this movement. Ben stared and he knew without looking that the rest of the guys were too. However, more pressing matters were at hand. Alan Blunt cleared his throat, actually looking quite defeated. Ben suspected it was only a new strategy though. The boss of Special Operations, Alan Blunt of them all, did not give in that easily.

“In hindsight it’s easy to…”

“There’s no room for hindsight in our occupation,” Ben interrupted. “You’ve got your job because you are supposed to be good at foreseeing consequences. You knew exactly what was going to happen. You let it.”

“I’m…” Alan tried again, a flare of anger burning in his eyes when he looked at Ben, who interrupted again.

“Leave.” He just said. He had grown tired, so incredibly tired of the old, gray man.

One of Blunt’s guards opened the door of his car and Blunt huffed with anger while climbing inside the vehicle. The essambled group stood watching as the car pulled out and drove away. Ben looked at Tom Harris and smiled brightly. The teenager and the soldier exchanged a high five. Ben turned his gaze to the sky.

“I bloody hope you saw that, because that is probably never going to happen again!”

The only answer he got to that was the church bells beginning to ring…

 

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaah. My first Alex Rider fanfic. What an adventure it has been. Thank you for all your support through kudos and comments and all of that stuff. Let me know what you think!  
> I love you all, thank you so much! <3


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